The Girl in Seat 23 {l.r.h.}

sixteen.

"A friend of mine said there's going to be a drag here tonight," I said as we walked slowly to the back of the drive-in's concession stand. "Want in?" Luke looked at me like I was absolutely bonkers. "Oh come on, you've never been to a drag race?" He shook his head.

An hour later, the two of us were surrounded by lunks with leather jackets and hot rods. Bruno, perhaps the broadest of the bunch, whistled at me. "Francino, you got me wishin' I was that locket." I glanced down at the necklace pressed against my chest.

Luke slipped an arm around my waist. "Hey buddy, what's your problem?" he barked. He stood a little straighter, as if to show Bruno exactly how tall he was and exactly what he planned to do about it.

I placed a hand on his chest. "Slow your roll, Hemmings. I'm a whole lot tougher than you, and you don't want to get tangled with the Lewis boys."

He seemed to calm a bit. I heard an engine begin to roar as the sun disappeared over the horizon. "You see, we've got two rules here," I started, gazing at the 1963 convertibles lined up beside each other. "Don't blink. Don't tell."

"Why?"

"Don't blink? It's fast. You'll miss it. Don't tell?" I bit my lip. "This is technically illegal..."

Luke's eyes were ready to pop out of his head.

"Get ready."

"Get set."

"Go."

In one incredible rumble and burst of light, the cars were off. Luke just stood in wonder as he stared at the racers in awe.

"Mum's going to kill me."